8th Sector

ATTENTION: Before you read this... I want you to know this story is still 'Under Construction' so it is not all polished and perfect as i would like it to be. So bear with me and check back every now and then to see if i remembered to change it.



"All Pilots report to emergency stations! Eighth Sector is under attack!" An urgent voice boomed over the PA system of the Space Outpost.

Then all at once, the sound of running feet filled the corridors, mixing with the sound of an alarm that helped to enforce the urgency of the situation. A fleet of Rimworlders had breached the Eighth Sector's outer defenses, and were now quickly advancing towards the direction of settled planets. At that point, none of the Pilots thought it was anything but the drills that they were continuously put through. Despite that fact, they knew that they had to act as fast as they could, and could not dawdle in getting to their proper stations.

One man, who looked to be in his thirties and more experienced than most, knelt down in front of a 7 year old boy with black hair and smokey grey eyes. The man's face was limp, almost sad, as he gazed down at the young child in front of him. The man was one of the only ones who guessed what was truly happening around them, and had an odd feeling that he might not come back.

"Radnar... You must not be afraid. The people's worst enemy is fear itself." The man's voice was firm but not unkind, and any trace of sadness on his face was hidden away.

"You can't leave Father! I don't want to be left alone." a tear started rolling down Radnar's cheek.

The man put his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

"I MUST go. I HAVE to fight to keep the only family I have left, safe. I could not forgive myself if anything were to ever happen to you. There is always Merin, she..."

"She's not the same! Please take me with you!"

"You know I can't. You are far too young... Please listen to me son. No matter what happens, I will always be with you, whether in heart," the man put a palm where Radnar's heart was, "or in person. Never doubt that."

"What if you die?.." Radnar whispered.

"We cannot think of that right now because it'll only create fear. Remember what I told you about that. Now I have to hurry, but I want to give you something that's very important to me."

He reached into his uniform and pulled out a small glass phial, filled with dark dirt, hanging on a silver chain. Radnar held out his small hand and the man dropped it into his open palm. Even as young and inexperienced as he was, he knew what it was immediatly. It was an ancient treasure that held the remnants of a world that no longer existed. Old Earth.

A thousand years ago it had been obliterated by the Rimworlders, an alien race that had made themselves known to humans five hundred years prior, saying they would return to lay waste to the planet. The people of Old Earth decided to explore space more deeply than before and discovered a galaxy far more larger than the Milky Way. It had 3 suns, and a multitude of life sustaining planets. In order to keep the memory of their former earth home, a handful of glass phials, like Radnar's father's, were made.

"Promise you will take care of it while I am away won't you? If it stays in one piece you may have it."

"I promise." the boy hiccoughed.

The man smiled solemnly and stood up.

"I have to get to my fighter now. Merin will take good care of you." He began to walk away, but not before Radnar caught him.

He hung onto his legs, trying to keep him in place, but to no avail. For the man gently peeled the little arms from himself and placed him a foot away.

"Goodbye for now. I will be back before you know it. I love you."

Then the man jogged down the corridor, and out of siight, leaving Radnar to sob.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Radnar woke with a start, feeling heavy and lethargic. Almost every night since the day his father went to fight twelve years ago, he dreamt of that last meeting. He remembered waiting for hours in the galley with Merin, the cook, when an officer in a black uniform entered and stared sadly at him. He had then been told that his father was shot down after saving a fellow pilot from a Rimworlder that was relentless in it's pursuit.

His hand strayed to his neck, where the phial of Old Earth had stayed for all these many years. He feared to take it off because he did not want to lose or damage the precious item.

He was nineteen years old now, but nothing had filled the emptiness he had felt since learning his father was never coming back. About the only good thing to happen was that he was accepted as a pilot for the Eighth Sector's pilot training program, Wing Squadron. Even that was by pure luck.

Then, to break him from his state of melancholy, there was a loud knock on the door of his Boarding Room. Radnar threw the covers back and stood slowly. The knock came again, but a little more impatiently.

"Hold on for god's sake!" he called irritably as he shuffled to a closet right across from his bed.

He grabbed his pair of Crimson red uniform trousers, a tunic to match, and a white button up shirt. After quickly slipping them on, tucking the shirt into the trousers, he went to the mirror and smoothed down his hair. His face seemed older than it really was, a frown almost permanent between his brows. Otherwise, he had grown into quite a handsome man that any girl would swoon for.

There was now a pounding on the door, so Radnar walked over, pressed the switch on the wall, and the door slid to the side. On the threshold of his room stood another young man in the same uniform, only he had blonde hair and blue eyes.

"About friggin time Bulont!" the man had a grin on his face.

"What's got you all 'happy happy' Amin?" Radnar asked grudgingly.

"Come on Rad! At least I dont wallow in self pity all the time." He was still grinning.

Radnar's nostrils flared and he was about to close the door when Amin waved his arms in protest.

"Im sorry Rad. Really. I know you've had a rough past. I'm only trying to..."

"Forget it. Theres no point in discussing it right now. Just tell me whats got you all excited..."

His friend ran a hand through their hair, clearing his throat nervously at the same time.

"Right. Well... The Lieutenant-General, has instructed that a select number of pilots are to meet him right now in Conference Room three." The grin returned.

Radnar straightened up and instantly became more alert. About seven years ago, the old Outpost Officer had been reassigned to an outer defence post, and a veteran pilot was promoted to take his place. Everyone had said that his father would have taken the position if he had lived... As fate would have it, the man his father had died saving was the one who had been promoted. He couldn't complain though because if it wasn't for the Lieutenant-General, he wouldn't have had the chance to become a Wing Fighter.

"Hello? You in there man? Your eyes are all out of focus when I was trying to talk to you." Amin waved his hand, trying to bring him back to reality.

"Huh? Oh.. right... Sorry." he sighed and continued, "Do you know why they were summoned?"

Amin only shook his head, "New mission I'm guessin'. Very important. SO HURRY UP! Finish getting dressed because we are two of those very pilots!"

Radnar stood dumbstruck for a moment then, "What?! But... We're still in training! Trainee pilots never get selected for missions."

The dream he had, was being supressed by the shocking news. Normally, trainee pilots only got to complete patrols directly around the Station. So hearing that they were possibly selected to go on a REAL mission was news indeed.

"I was just as shocked as you are now when I found out. Still am. So would you PLEASE hurry it up? Im itching to find out what's going on." Amin was starting to twine his thumbs anxiously.

"Alright, alright. Give me a sec." he rushed to grab his black boots from underneath his bed, and a Crimson red tie off his desk.

After hastly tying the laces on the boots, and having Amin fix his tie, he followed his friend from the room out into the corridor. It was brightly lit by the many lights lining the walls, and a few people nodded their heads as they passed. The pair turned left and continued walking at a brisk pace for about a minute with an anxious silence between them. Both were very eager to get to their destination.

They turned left down another corridor, then a right, then another left, until they reached one of the largest corridors they'd seen yet. Walking forward for another couple minutes, they reached a large metal door with the number three painted in red on it's face. On the wall beside the door, a retina scan device was set into a metal bracket about 6feet off the ground.

"Here we go." Amin leaned forward to put his eyes in front of the scanner.

There was a dull flash of blue, a beep, and then a computerized voice welcomed him as "Airman First Class Lavalle." The metal door slid open smoothly to allow them access to the room that lay beyond. Radnar looked into the room, and down all the tiers to where the selected pilots sat waiting. There were about twenty-five of them, thirty if you included him and Amin.

They rushed to grab a seat but a loud voice boomed out at them.

"You're late.

Radnar glanced toward the front of the room where their offiver stood magnificently on a slightly raised platform, clearly frustrated. On either shoulder of his tunic eplets, bearing the four paralell gold bars with three gold stars, rested comfortably.

Radnar nudged his friend and they both saluted.

"Airmen Radnar Bulont, and Amin Lavalle, sir!" Radnair announced clearly so that the Officer could hear.

"Explain yourselves." the Lieutenant-General stared at them.

The other pilots around them chuckled and turned to watch the pair.

"Well.." Radnar began, but Amin cut him off.

"You see sir... I dawdled on the way to get my fellow pilot here because I smelled a sweet smell wafting through the air vents coming from the kitchen. Merin gave me a couple buns and then I went to complete my duty sir. I was very hungry..."

Radnar nearly caved into laughter. Everyone knew he fancied the fifty year old cook, and that he dreamed of spending all his time with her. It was something the officer standing ahead of them knew as well, and the man just shook his head and laughed.

"Lavalle, Lavalle..." the Lieutenant-General clicked his tongue and motioned for them to take their seats.

They found seats at the back of the gathering, right beside a pilot two years older than they who's name was Terin. Another man just as old as Terin, who had sandy coloured hair and brown eyes, sat to the man's right. Radnar remembered his name as Acorn.

"Hey Amin! Has Merin expressed her love of you yet?" Acorn teased.

"Haha funny." Amin huffed and slammed himself into his seat.

"Aw leave him alone Nutty. He'd infatuated." Terin rolled his eyes.

"I'll have you know Merin is a very nice lady and is a very talented one at that." Amin murmered under his breath.

"Talented in the sack maybe?" Acorn burst into laughter.

"Acorn just shut your mouth. He's about to start..." Radnar slapped the back of his head.

The man glared at him and turned towards the front of the room, where the officer has just started talking.

"As you all may have been told, all of you have been selected for a mission of utmost importance."

They all gave an assent and the officer continued.

"The details of this mission is simple. You will all be sent to the colonized planet of Feov-Ajoa to add extra security for it's people. It is the planet closest to the border between our galaxy and the Rimworlder's. If the defences shall be breached Feov-Ajoa is the first planet in the line of fire and instant reaction will be needed."

Everyone sat stunned. Feov-Ajoa was the farthest planet from any of the suns, so it was in an almost permanent blanket of snow and ice. Many of the Pilots had said that they would not even dare to go to that planet because of it's conditions. So now that they were hearing that they were chosen to go there was a major shock. Not only that but their current Wing-Fighter Craft were not built to handle those temperatures.

"I know most of you are in disbelief I would send you men there when your current Craft are unable to withstand tempertures of such a low degree, but that problem is solved."

It was then that they noticed the big board covered in white linen, standing behind the Lieutenant-General. With a gentle tug the cloth fell and revealed what it was hiding. On the board, a large diagram of a craft similar to their own Wing-Fighters, was pinned up. However similar it looked, it had its own unique characteristics.


****TO BE FINISHED COPYING OUT LATER****